The Grieving Ring by Naomi Shihab Nye
A friend of mine just lost someone close to him.
The Grieving Ring
By Naomi Shihab Nye
When word of his death arrived
we sat in a circle for days
crying or not crying
long ago in the other country
girls balanced buckets
on their heads
now the old sweet water
rose from the spring
to swallow us
brothers shrank
children grew old
it felt fine to say nothing
about him
or something small
the way he carried
oranges and falafel
in his pockets
the way he was always
slightly mad
what he said to each
the last time
we saw him
hurt the worst
those unwritten letters
banging each head
till it felt bruised
now he would stand at the mirror
knotting his tie
fort he rest of so many lives
